


How Soon Is Now?

by 3lvendork



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Compliant, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mention of blood, Minor Violence, Non-Explicit Sex, Post-Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Post-Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix, Post-Hogwarts, So much angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:48:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27042238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3lvendork/pseuds/3lvendork
Summary: Love is strong. Fate is stronger. First and last, they only have now.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 5
Kudos: 14





	How Soon Is Now?

**Author's Note:**

> Verses: Mad Girl`s Love Song by Sylvia Plath  
> Title and song lyrics: The Smiths

July 1978

_I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed  
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane._

Remus has been awake for an hour, lying in bed and idly staring at the sliver-thin crack on the ceiling, making exactly Zero Progress Whatsoever on getting up and facing the other side of his bedroom door. The side that has Sirius in it. It has been two weeks since they have moved in together and Remus feels like he might implode at any moment now.

Agreeing to share a flat with Sirius made the most logical sense to him, after all they had lived in the same dorm for seven years, which was easy and fun, and he couldn`t afford his own place anyway. The irrelevant fact that he has been in love with Sirius probably since minute number bloody one was ebbed by the practicality of cohabitation in London and Remus` steel-strong conviction that of course he can handle it.

He can`t handle it.

He didn`t account for the, now obvious, detail that without the comfortable routine of Gryffindor schedule or the booming sound of James` easy laughter in their dormitory, and the effortless dynamic of friendship in their group, he would feel completely exposed and on edge all the time. But James has moved in with Lily and Peter is happy living at his mum`s, so here they are.

He sighs and forces himself out of bed and out of his room. Sirius is in the kitchen, singing along to _Here Comes the Sun_ coming out of the record player, boundless energy radiating from him like summertime. Remus can`t suppress the smile that immediately develops on his mouth at the sight. Here comes the sun, indeed. “You`re up early,” he says in a voice he hopes sounds calm and level and doesn`t betray the riot that is currently erupting inside his ribcage.

“Morning! I was just about to go and see if you`re up too. I was thinking we could take the bike to Brighton and spend the day at the beach,” Sirius suggests brightly and Remus hums something non-comital in lieu of an answer because he is certain he wouldn`t be able to keep the strain out of his response. An inevitable image of Sirius in his swimming trunks, sun drying off salty water drops on his shoulders, slides into his frontal lobe. _Great. Keep that thought in your head, you git, that will help._

He busies himself in the kitchen instead but can`t make a pot of coffee without Sirius somehow being in the way, being insufferably gorgeous and Remus has to stay himself from shouting at him something along the lines of _I want to kiss you until I can`t fucking breathe!_

He doesn`t shout. He doesn`t say anything, he drinks his coffee and reads the newspaper while his insides burn.

More than once in the last couple of years he thought that maybe Sirius might like him too, but his overactive brain always catalogued him as _Lovely Things I Can`t Have_ and he has only allowed himself to think of his best friend That Way when he is alone, in the privacy of after-dark, more often than not with his cock in hand. And now they are living together. Fucking brilliant.

He has figured a long time ago that his searing hot _want_ for Sirius has very little to do with the Molotov cocktail of hormones that is raging through his eighteen-year old body and everything to do with the bone-deep connection they have shared ever since they met, that exploded fully with discovered secrets and subsequent acceptance, innocent back then and growing steadily into more meaning than he ever expected, bigger and brighter than magic, just as heavy as the wolf that twins his blood, and it scares him to look at it head-on, fearing that if he did, it would shake the very core of him.

“What`s got you, Moony?” Sirius asks around a bite of croissant he`s warmed up with a silent spell for breakfast, looking at him quizzically. A small crumb sits at the corner of his mouth and Remus wants to reach out across the table and - _stop it._

“How do you mean?”, he buys time instead, standing up from the table and rinsing his cup at the sink, so that he doesn`t give a chance to Sirius` searching eyes. He has taken to avoiding looking at Sirius directly, stealing sideway glances only when he thinks Sirius is not paying attention. He has also taken to cold showers and long walks, which he was planning to do next, exactly in that order.

“I can hear you thinking from over here, what`s on your mind?” Sirius finishes his tea and stands up to gather the dishes with a wave of his wand to levitate them into the sink.

_YOU, you beautiful idiot._

“McKinnon`s birthday`s coming up, I was just – “He starts but is cut off by a sudden realization that Sirius is standing right behind him, crowding him in the kitchen and he is trapped against the sink. Remus turns slowly to face him, heart fluttering inside his ribs like hummingbird wings. _Honestly_ , at this rate he is going to die of a heart attack by next Tuesday.

“You`re a good liar but that`s not what`s been bothering you,” Sirius smiles, his breath hot and sweet, he is so close. Remus holds his gaze, stubbornly wanting to defend his lie but there is something in Sirius` expression that is insistent. Remus is not good at denying anything to Sirius. The atmosphere in the kitchen has shifted, he realizes, it`s grown heavy and charged with expectation.

“You have been weird ever since we`ve moved to this place and I have an inkling of why that might be. I really hope I`m not wrong.” Sirius says slowly and a little rough around the edges, _is he nervous?_ Remus` mind scrambles for purchase, stunned by the assault of closeness and the direction this morning has taken. He was not prepared for proclamations.

 _“_ Talk to me.” Sirius almost whispers, his voice low around the words and it sounds like a plea. Remus` mouth goes dry when Sirius wraps his fingers around his wrist gently in a silent sign for _this is something, can you feel it too?_ and his pulse responds with an immediate gallop. The world around him comes to a standstill and he finds it instead in the storm of Sirius` eyes, along with what can only be described as adoration, _oh there it is,_ right in front of him.

And so, just then, he allows himself a moment of bravery, of absolute truth, of letting the walls he`s been building crack. It renders him mute and lets his heart have a say for once. “Sirius,” he says, a breathless thing, a prayer, and he wants to say more but it seems he doesn`t have to, it seems that Sirius understood everything from the honeyed desperation of those three syllables, that they were all he needed to hear because he leans in and kisses Remus.

Whoever said that wanting was better than having clearly never had this, Remus thinks as Sirius brushes their lips together, gently at first in slow exploration, only to have his tongue eagerly sweep into Remus` mouth in the next second. He holds Remus close with one arm around his waist and knits his other hand into his hair and it`s everything Remus has ever wanted.

“Christ, Remus, thank fuck, I was beginning to go mad,” Sirius pants after a few moments when they separate, only to close the distance immediately again with such ardor that Remus thinks his knees might buckle, and he responds with the same enthusiasm, desperately grabbing at any part of Sirius he can reach, as if his life depends on it.

Remus has had sex with a grand total of three people before today: Dorcas Meadowes, who he shared cigarettes with at the top of the Astronomy tower, and then lost his virginity to in a slightly confusing and embarrassingly short evening; Katie Harris, a Ravenclaw Prefect who he went out with steadily for four months before she dumped him for Caradoc Dearborn and Remus started meeting with Gideon Prewett in the Prefect bathrooms for exploratory trades of hands and mouths, which is how he found out Sirius was doing exactly the same – Gideon wasn`t very secretive about it.

Nothing from the above could have prepared him for the loveliness that is Sirius sans clothes, their tangled limbs after they`ve stumbled onto the sofa together with their insistence, the feeling of arrival that hits him with such finality he has to hold on to Sirius to center himself. He can`t phantom why they haven`t been honest with each other before and feels strangely bereft of all the _could have been-s,_ before Sirius` tongue moves south and all his thoughts become naught but white noise.

Afterwards, they lie on the rug in front of the sofa, cheeks flushed pink, ragged breathing returning to normal, he is tracing small nonsense patterns onto Sirius` sweat-damp temple with his thumb and Sirius is looking at him as if it was Remus who hung the sun onto the sky. “God, look at you. You`re magnificent.”

Remus lets out a contented chuckle at Sirius` own brand of Over The Top. “About time that you noticed.”

“Move in with me.” The words tumble out of Sirius` mouth like ice cubes into a glass and the absurdity of the request makes Remus shudder with an unguarded laugh.

“We already live together, you ponce.”

“I meant move into my bedroom. We can turn yours into a guest room, or… I dunno, a sex dungeon.” Sirius` stare is a mixture of such genuine mirth and devotion that it makes Remus` guts contract. He doesn`t hate that at all.

“I thought that was already in your room,” he deadpans, earning himself a jab in his ribs. “Of course, I`ll move in with you, I didn`t like my room anyway.”

They never end up going to the beach because Sirius kisses him again, languidly now, and it tastes like spring and music and Remus decides that sharing this flat was not a mistake after all.

November 1982

_God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:  
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:  
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead._

My name is Sirius Black and I`m a murderer.

Not literally. But people are dead and it`s my fault, so same thing.

There is no excuse, no explanation, no “hear me out, there is a side to every story”. I killed them with my bad decisions, I fucked up everything good in my life and then some by being a self-righteous bastard and I dragged everyone down with me.

So here is to the first anniversary of my rightful imprisonment, celebrated by me writing shitty declarations with my fingers into the dust on the floor. It`s probably progress from when I wrote REMUS REMUS REMUS REMUS REMUS REMUS until my fingertips bled. Or not.

Oh look, the dust has already settled on this, that`s how long I have been staring at the name. He did nothing wrong. I failed him and I failed to protect him from myself. He would have gotten angry if he heard that and would have told me heatedly that he doesn`t need protecting. He doesn`t. And fucking yet.

I had the most vivid dream last night. I held him in my arms, and I wanted to tell him how sorry I was but I couldn`t speak, no matter how much I tried no sound was coming out of me. And then I looked down at his chest and it was bloody, dark hot blood gushing from a deep wound and all over my hands and wrists and I couldn`t understand why until I saw that I had clawed my way through the layers of his skin and meat and into his ribcage and I was holding his beating heart in the palm of my hand, squeezing it tight. And he was looking at me with those brilliant eyes so full of disappointment and defeat, exactly the same way he did the last time I saw him, and he said _go on, just be fucking done with it already._ Leave it to my brain to ignore any possible poetic metaphors for me to decipher in the morning and go straight for the literal representation of what I did to him.

He deserved the world and instead, he got me. Fate has a sick sense of humor.

There is nothing I can do to fix it.

But here I go again, being an arrogant shit, thinking that he needs me to fix anything. He doesn`t need me. He is the bravest person that I have ever met, and he is better off without me.

I never knew how close to hell that could feel.

June 1996

_I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;  
I lift my lids and all is born again._

Remus flips through the stacks of records scattered on the floor in front of him like an oversized game of solitaire with one hand, a glass of brandy in the other, careful not to shift his position too much to lose contact with the warmth radiating from Sirius.

“Play “ _Back to the Old House_ ,” Sirius requests, finishing his own drink, he summons the bottle, four fingers down on the way to pleasantly drunk, to refill both their glasses.

“You are so predictable.” Remus smirks but obeys, sliding the record out of its sleeve and placing it on the turntable with a subtle wave of his wrist. He has beautiful hands, Sirius catches himself marveling as Remus returns to lean with his back flush against Sirius` chest, a position he had assumed a while ago. They are sitting on the rug in front of the fireplace, Sirius` back against the sofa behind him with Remus sat between his knees, just like they have been doing on any occasion when it`s just the two of them in the house, going steadily through music they have missed out on in the last decade. _I couldn`t listen to any music for a long time after_ , Remus had told him, an offhand comment, as if it didn`t chip away another layer of Sirius` heart, as if it didn`t add to the pile of guilt building in his lungs every time he learned another detail of Remus` life during the sodding twelve years. It makes it hard to breathe deeply and so Sirius only takes shallow breaths and holds Remus closer.

“There is nothing predictable about The Smiths,” his pretended petulance doesn`t last long because Remus turns his head up to look at him, amused and Sirius leans in for a brandy-flavored kiss.

“Except for the way they make you miserable.” Remus gives him a hint of a smile then, a small thing that only turns the corners of his mouth a little bit and Sirius thinks belongs in an art gallery.

They keep the record on for a few more tracks, a contended silence between them, apart from the music and the crackling fire, filling their souls like ballast. It`s taken a long time for them to arrive here, to this Eden where they can simply exist. After Sirius found his way back from the land of the dead, there had been a lot of history for them to work through, old wounds they had to violently open again for the healing to begin. They had talked and argued and shouted and cried and apologized and apologized and apologized. And when words weren`t enough, they fucked, the only language they had left, silent, save for an occasional gasp, desperate pleas and each other`s names choked out at the coattails of orgasms.

And now they are here, wrapped up in each other, as if the world outside isn`t crumbling to pieces again with the same war they fought before, they lost before. They surround themselves with the solace of each other like a heavy blanket, with so much love it`s drowning as it fills their hearts. It`s different from when they were boys, deeper if anything, fasted with hurt and forgiveness, but somehow better for it, Sirius thinks as he intertwines their fingers together. The needle on the vinyl shifts in its ridges for another song.

_Good time for a change  
See, the luck I've had  
Can make a good man  
Turn bad_

_So please please please  
Let me, let me, let me  
Let me get what I want  
This time_

_Haven't had a dream in a long time  
See, the life I've had  
Can make a good man bad_

_So for once in my life  
Let me get what I want  
Lord knows, it would be the first time  
Lord knows, it would be the first time_

“Stop moping or I will change the record,” Remus` stare is fixed at him, quiet caution laced in his voice without malice and Sirius wills the tears that have begun forming behind his eyes back where they came from. He traces a slow thumb across Remus` jawline and then tracks the same path with gentle lips. Remus leans into it, a soft moan escaping him when Sirius` tongue moves lower and finds the spot that he likes best, just beneath his earlobe.

Sirius grins against Remus` neck at that. “You`re such a slag.” His nimble fingers slip underneath the hem of Remus` jumper, where his skin in impossibly warm.

“You love it.”

“I love _you_.”

It`s never worn off, the wonder at the perfection that is Remus Lupin, and Sirius worships his body with slow kisses, taking his time, not wanting this to be just means to an end, he needs them both to forget that the universe is unravelling again behind the webs of protective charms woven into the walls. For now, it`s just them and the fire and the music.

_Take me out tonight  
Where there's music and there's people  
And they're young and alive  
Driving in your car  
I never never want to go home  
Because I haven't got one  
Anymore_

Remus` lips are parted slightly and his breath is becoming shallow as Sirius trails his favorite scars on his chest and just above his waistband with open-mouthed kisses, his hands lingering on Remus` thighs, carefully avoiding the obvious place that is begging to be touched. He wants to blind Remus with pleasure, he wants to drag it out, he wants to see him undone. He reads Remus` body like runic language, drawing a helpless groan out of him when he narrowly misses the strain on his trousers with the palm of his hand, and it`s a sound that does filthy things to Sirius` insides and he craves to hear it again and again and again.

“One of these days, _ah_ , you`ll be the death of me,” Remus gasps, voice made of shards, deliciously flustered, his button-fly now half open.

“Is that so,” Sirius looks up at him almost lazily, placing slow, tantalizing kisses over the fabric of his pants, deliberately ignoring the way Remus` hips arc in search for friction.

_And if a double-decker bus  
Crashes into us  
To die by your side  
Is such a heavenly way to die  
And if a ten-ton truck  
Kills the both of us  
To die by your side  
Well, the pleasure - the privilege is mine_

Remus finds his limit after another handful of moments of Sirius` undivided attention, pressing himself up to meet Sirius` pace with the telltale sign of small gasps, just short of desperate. He comes with an unfettered cry and Sirius sees him through it in unflagging rhythm, drinking in the sight unfolding in front of him, the perfect theatre of sin performed for his eyes only.

“C`mere, you fantastic creature,” Remus mumbles as he collects himself, bringing Sirius up for a heady kiss. “Give me just a few moments,” he hums into Sirius` mouth, fingers already working on the buckle of his belt in reciprocation.

Sirius cards his fingers through Remus` hair, marveling for a thousandth time at the loveliness of the man, his heart aching sweetly at the sight. “We`ve got all night, love.”

_Oh, there is a light and it never goes out  
There is a light and it never goes out _

They have all night. Tomorrow Remus will head out for another assignment and Sirius will be alone but that`s then. Tonight, they have time and so they kiss again. They have now.

November 1996

_I should have loved a thunderbird instead;  
At least when spring comes they roar back again.  
  
_

_Dearest Sirius,_

_I think I might be going mad because I swear, I heard your voice the other day when I was making tea, but it was only the sound of the wind rustling the leaves in the oak tree by the kitchen window. They are a lovely colour now, all rusty red and I know you would make a comment about how beautiful they are at least twice a day if you were here, you were never good at hiding your romantic side from me. I think it suits you terribly well._

_I got a set of new quills to write this letter but I didn`t enchant them to take dictations, I figured if this is meant to be therapy I might as well do it properly and write by hand. I still prefer your old quill to these new ones, you know the one with the broken end, it`s worn but it feels right. It will take a while to break these in._

_Stella, my neighbor – you remember Stella? She is the one who talks about her grandchildren for hours on end – said that we are to expect a cruel winter when she stopped by this morning, I think I should stock up on firewood, I never have been particularly keen on warming charms, they have nothing on a proper fire built the muggle way. But you already know that about me. She brought scones with raisins, which was nice of her, but I haven`t eaten any yet. If you were here, you would probably scold me for that and tell me that I must eat, and your eyebrows would get that little crease between them that always turns up when you are insistent. And I would want to smooth it out with my thumb and say something witty and you would kiss me and then we would make tea and eat the scones together by the fire. If I squint enough, I can just about see it. But you`re not here. I miss you. But you know that too._

_Do you remember the summer before seventh year when you came here to visit for a week, and we used to go swimming at the lake and one time you said you were sure that a Kelpie touched your ankle? I was thinking about that yesterday when I took a walk down there, the water is quite murky now, which is not ideal for Kelpies. Although I`m pretty certain they were never there in the first place and it was just you being dramatic, you berk. I think I told you as much even then. I keep remembering silly things like that, seemingly unremarkable ones, they come out of nowhere and hit me full force with this sort of harrowing sadness I never knew I could feel._

_I`ve started talking to myself I think about a week ago, you must think I`m insane. But then again you had seen worse and a half in Azkaban, you told me. How did you ever come out of there in one piece? You are the strongest person I know, I wish I knew how to be that. I could use some of your strength now, I should have asked you to teach me. You`d think I`d know enough about grief by now. I really thought I did._

_Work has been coming my way quite steadily now, you`d be pleased to hear, mostly editing which I don`t mind at all and it can be done from here. It keeps my mind busy, which is obviously welcome. Although I`m not going to pretend that I don’t find myself daydreaming about you approximately twelve times an hour. I did the same the first time around when you were gone but back then I hated myself for it. This time I only hate myself a little bit for hoping that you might come back. You did once before, so don`t blame me._

_I can almost see the clever comeback forming at the back of your tongue already, so I will leave you here._

_I love you, madly._

_R._


End file.
